The thing is, we like to keep our columnist away from actual real people for reasons that will become obvious the more of his work you read…
I’ve discovered bacon. It’s amazing. I’ve never bothered with bacon.Until now, my diet consisted solely of boiled spiders, jugs of broccoli, and dust. Bacon even tastes better than breakfast fingers.
For the two of you that don’t know what breakfast fingers are, that happens when your face is still full of sleep and you pour fish fingers into your bowl instead of Weetabix. Turns out frozen faux fish swamped with semi-skimmed is delicious.
Anyway, I’m here to talk about bacon. It’s the best food ever and it goes with everything: bacon mayonnaise, bacon ice cream, bacon toothpaste, bacon bacon. Bacon is the best thing since sliced bread, and that doesn’t even taste of bacon.
Reader, I hear your complaint. You haven’t paid threeppence and a jar of marbles for this electronic music magazine only to have its columnist blither about what tickles his taste buds.
You want to discover the latest releases from Jive Bunny and Black Lace. You want to read geeks saying long words about music like, er, hold on, I’m just trying to think of a long word, um… oh crap. You want to learn about novelty record deck cushions that aren’t as good as proper cushions.
But let me blow your mind with this true actual fact: synthesisers don’t taste of bacon. Believe me, I’ve licked a stack of synths in my time; I’ve tongued a lot of drum machines.
None of them tasted of grilled pig. I’ve even sniffed a theremin, much to its alarm. Not a hint of ham. Readers, this changes now.
Dear Korg or whatever your name is,
I ate one of your keyboards and it gave me proper burps. I shoved it between two slabs of multigrain and everything. I thought black keys were made of liquorice and white keys were made of Polos. How wrong was I? Was that a§ rhetorical question? How about that one? Shut up. It didn’t even taste of breakfast fingers – never mind, I haven’t got time to explain.
The point is you should make all your stupid keyboards taste of bacon. Pop down to Farmer Geoff’s, or whatever you have in Korgland, it’s probably all robots or something, and choose the most musical-looking pig.
Perhaps it squeals in E minor. Perhaps it has soft hooves like a violinist. Perhaps it has the face of Gary Numan. Shove that pig into a mincer, bash with a hammer, glue on liquorice and Polo mints, bang, you have a bacon keyboard. It sounds terrible, but smells great. Thank me later.
Your synth-cerely (you can have that one too),
Fat Roland
Korg haven’t replied to my letter. Every morning, I lie on my back underneath my letterbox, mouth agape, waiting for their reply to drop down my gullet. Nothing.
To be honest, this has taken the shine off the whole bacon thing. I’m considering becoming vegetarian; going back to the broccoli. It sounds like a radical idea, but I might replace my fish fingers with Weetabix.
Apparently with vegetarians, halloumi’s all the rage: you just shove it into your toaster then pour the hot ooze straight down your face. Cheese is the best food ever and it goes with everything: cheese mayonnaise, cheese ice cream, cheese toothpaste, cheese cheese.
Eeugh. I feel sick. Let’s never talk about food again.
